Fine Line
by Kavi Leighanna
Summary: This time, the transition was as easy as the distinction. DT.
1. Escape

**Fine Line**

**Summary: **Terry has a place and person to unwind. When Don Eppes trespasses on her territory, Terry shows him how exactly she loosens up after tough cases.

**Disclaimer:** If this was mine… well, actually, we'll just thank the owners for letting us borrow them every once in a while. The rest of us can dream, that's for sure.

**Author's Note:** SEMI-IMPORTANT! BOTH CHARACTERS ARE PROBABLY OUT OF CHARACTER! There's my warning. Don't flame me and tell me it sucked because the characters didn't act like themselves. This is the dangerous side to them both… work with me.

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Sometimes it became difficult to distinguish between work and life. The line to draw was not thick, nor was it solid black or clear. Serial cases, cases that caused horrible sleep deprivation and cases where her team mates just scraped out alive pushed Terry Lake into the place she felt safe and detached with an undignified "plop".

This was one of those times.

Nine times out of ten she preferred a night in with an overwhelming amount of chocolate and her favourite chick flick to forget the horrors she dealt with every day. Tonight was a different story. This was above and beyond the call of chocolate and into the quasi-salsa club down the street from her apartment.

They'd lost a hostage in their take down today, a mother of three boys that were left with relatives they'd never met. The boys had lost their father years prior and their mother had since lost contact with them. The only relatives on their mother's side were their grandparents that had already passed away. The FBI and Child Services had found an uncle, their dad's brother, to place them with. Terry, however, had been focused on their stupid mistake and the rip in her heart at the thought of children without their biological parents. She took the loss personally and it was what had sent her into a world of masks and hot bodies.

Her skirt was black, loose around her legs, dropping no further than mid thigh, her top tight and cut to show the maximum amount of skin that didn't cross the line into indecency. Red lace contrasted against basic black and the salsa heels added a couple of inches to her height. She made the distinction easily, the simple switch between straight-laced FBI Agent Terry Lake and free-spirited, hot as hell Theresa.

This time, the transition was as easy as the distinction.

It didn't take her long to get in. It helped that the bouncer took one look at her and had to come back for seconds and thirds. She walked in, oozing sex appeal and availability, betting herself after her first drink, she wouldn't be buying any more tonight. Her second bet was that the first drink sent to her would be done in less than five minutes. While she waited, she watched, making sure there weren't any trespassers in her hunting ground.

She wanted a heart beat beside her tonight.

The dance floor was covered with immature and inexperienced salsa dancers that looked like they were more there for a good grind than the classic Spanish dance. Theresa knew the exact measurements of a good salsa: one part skill, two parts seduction. However, the current crowd was taking it too far. Her first drink temporarily distracted her, popping up in front of her in three minutes and seventeen seconds. She smirked but ignored it, proceeding to turn down the next four men in quick succession.

Then she saw him and groaned internally, allowing rational Terry to overpower impulsive Theresa. However, Theresa took over again in short order and she felt herself strutting over to the sexy as hell man leaning against the wall.

If Don Eppes was going to enter her territory, he was going to be introduced to her persona and get a good taste of Theresa.


	2. Skill and Seduction

**Fine Line**

Don hadn't meant to go out. When he dealt with difficult cases, he preferred to stay at home, watch a baseball movie, and drown himself in anything but reality. Tonight, he'd changed his mind.

It was Terry's influence. She'd been teasing him for what felt like ever that he never got out. He'd asked her for suggestions once and she'd mentioned this club: _Tentación._ That was the only reason he was leaning against the wall of the club.

He figured this case was above and beyond the call of normality. He'd watched Terry fall apart and had felt utterly helpless to stop it. At least here he could take control of enough to satisfy his head and push Terry's broken eyes out of his memory.

He watched the floor with a small amount of disgust. This was not salsa. He knew since his mother, in an attempt to increase his dancing skills, had sent him to lessons when he was a teenager. He couldn't see himself bumping and grinding like those on the floor.

Then she walked in, temptation walking, and he couldn't take his eyes off of her.

She sidled up to the bar. He watched her gaze out over the floor much like he had done. His gaze travelled up and down her body, displayed in black and red, lace and loose fabric. She'd managed to show enough skin to be enticing, without going overboard. Her hair was half up, a style that he thought suited her perfectly. He allowed his eyes to move away for a moment, scanning the floor for any other woman that rivalled the beauty he'd just seen.

Nothing caught his eye and he moved back to watching her.

Men approached her and were systematically turned down and drinks sent to her were ignored. He grinned predatorily. Pre-mature. His eyes wandered again, not wanting to seem obvious in his attraction to her. As much as he wanted a body beside him, to bury himself in and lose himself, he didn't want to seem like a stalker. The next time he turned, she was right in front of him.

"Do you dance?" she asked, voice low and sultry. Don felt himself fall into the persona of a dangerous man, one that wanted nothing more than to throw a beautiful woman up against the wall and devour her.

"Depends on the dance," he returned, his own voice husky. A smile crawled across her face, one filled with promise.

"Not the partner?" He could hear the pout in her voice, even if her facial expression didn't mirror it. He chuckled.

"It does add a certain motivation," he conceded. He tugged on her hand, relishing his moment of being with a woman and having some control over what happened between them. He pulled her flush against him, lining his body with hers.

"Don," he introduced himself, kissing her neck in greeting. She arched against him as he quickly recalled the knowledge of past experience in this dance of seduction. While his partner looked like Terry Lake, there was something much more primal singing through her veins and showing in her eyes. He'd met this woman once at the academy.

"Theresa," she answered and he understood. This was where she was something different and detached from her every day pressure. Here, she was safe from counterfeiters and murderers. Here she was pure sex, perfect for her need of comfort to drown out her daily horrors. He played along.

"I dance," he said, answering her earlier question with much more clarity. "The question, then, becomes do you salsa?" She smirked at him, leading him to the middle of the dance floor before answering his question.

"One part skill, two parts seduction."


	3. No More Masks

Fine Line 

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He looped his arms around her waist as hers draped comfortably around his neck. They went about the preliminary steps, warming up and sliding sensually against each other. Once they felt secure and knowledgeable in the talents of the other, the steps started to get complicated and hands started to move and explore. They turned and twisted around the dance floor in perfect time. It was easy for them to move in sync, to judge the next step in advance. Her hands moved from his neck down his chest, stroking the toned muscle she found there. His wandered down to her ass, pulling her hips against his.

"Terry," he gasped as she rotated her hips and leaned up to nibble on his ear.

"Theresa," she corrected him, a reminder that here, she was a different person. He pulled back to study her, to look into her eyes and she could see the chaos in his emotions. Then a look of determination crossed his face as he pulled her closer and crushed his lips to hers. She arched against him with a moan, plastering her body to his as her arms clasped his head to hers in a death grip. He pulled away when the need for air screamed in his lungs, a decision made in his head.

"Teryy," he managed. Then she understood. This wasn't about a one-night stand anymore. He didn't want to make the distinction between the two. Somewhere along the line it had morphed into something completely different and the identities they'd created melded into their daily personas in what became a freer version of their regular, daily selves.

His words solidified it.

They'd been dancing around each other since he moved back to LA and returned to the office there. Both had been hoping their rekindled flirting would die away and they'd be able to work professionally as well as continue something that resembled a personal relationship without it getting out of hand. Don's words told her he was sick of playing that game. The rules had changed.

He'd left it up to her to accept the change, or return to what they'd been.

It wasn't a difficult choice to make. With a coy smile and a slightly shy tug on his arm, she moved him back against her. This dance wasn't between masked strangers anymore. It had transferred to a dance between past lovers that were ready to start a new chapter in their relationship. They hadn't lost touch after they parted ways, something that had strengthened their relationship considerably. It was why it became so easy to stop pretending. Hand stroked and caressed over fabric, remembering old touches and weak spots.

They current song ended and Don pulled Terry off the dance floor to a shadowed corner. She was sure he could hear her erratic breathing and heartbeat that definitely wasn't a result of their dancing. She'd noticed his. He leaned against the wall and pulled her against him, arms wrapping around her body, one hand tangled in her hair, the other on the small of her back, just above her ass. She went willingly, crushing her lips to hers roughly. His tongue immediately took possession of her mouth, thrusting past her willing lips to taste all the corners of her mouth that he couldn't find.

Someone moaned, who neither could tell. They were above and beyond understanding, thinking, and were content to just feel. Slowly, his hand began to move wandering her body, brushing against remembered weak spots. He grinned when she arched against him. For her part, Terry submitted. She knew Don, knew how little control he'd believed he had over the case and how it affected him. By giving up her control she told him that she trusted him completely and unwaveringly. She put her safety in his hands.

He felt her let go and allowed himself to surrender a little bit of his control back into her grasp. He couldn't hold onto it all by himself. His kiss was without restraint, stealing her breath with its passion. She didn't care. If it wasn't for his arm around her waist, she was sure she would have melted into the floor. She managed to tear her mouth from his when breath became necessary but he didn't let up in his assault. He moved to her neck, the muscle and vessel that had always been his favourite part of this particular woman. She gasped as he reached her collarbone.

"Don, not here," she groaned out as he continued to nibble across the bone. He moaned into her skin when she reflexively tightened her fingers bunching up his shirt and lightly scraping his back. She managed to get her hands around to his chest giving a forceful push against him. Both chests were heaving, eyes dark with desire, but both understood that public indecency didn't need to be added to their records.

"Did you walk?" he whispered, running his hands over her head, through her hair. Terry nodded as she pulled him backwards by his hands. They made it outside the club before Don threw her up against the wall to ravish her again.

They eventually made it to Don's car and to the apartment, no thanks to teasing on Terry's part as Don tried to navigate LA traffic. Like teenagers they took to the stairs of her apartment building, stopping every once in a while in a corner or against the rail. It took them longer than usual to reach her apartment and longer than usual for her to get the door open.

They lay together afterwards, Terry cuddled against his side contentedly, asleep. He loved how he'd made her so relaxed, content. It did more than boost his ego. In fact, now that he thought about it, he loved her. She stretched against him lazily, wincing slightly when muscles stretched that hadn't been used for a while.

"Welcome back." She smiled up at him, her cheek still resting on his chest. She purred as he stroked her back softly arching against him and pressing her delicious body against his. They were silent for a while, until Terry's curiosity got the better of her.

"What made you venture out tonight?" she asked softly, her arm tightening around his middle. He took a minute to formulate his reply.

"A friend of mine told me I needed to get out more." She smiled.

"So you took to my club?" She allowed the note of possession to slip into her voice. He chuckled as he looked down at her.

"Why the mask?" he shot back. Terry shrugged hiding her eyes from his gaze.

"It's safer." He considered this a moment before unwrapping one of his arms and lifting her chin. She saw the vulnerability in his gaze as he said his next words.

"No more masks?" She couldn't help the smile that stretched over her face.

"No more masks," she assured him. "And no more dancing." Don didn't miss the metaphor in her words. He agreed whole-heartedly with a searing kiss. They settled back into their previous positions. When Terry started drawing absent patterns on his stomach, he knew she was thinking.

"I never stopped loving you, you know," she told him softly. He smiled as the hand that was drawing on her back made its way into her hair.

"Me either." She avoided his gaze again.

"So…" her hand stilled and flattened against his stomach. "This wasn't a one-time thing?" He smiled, kissing her head.

"No. No, it most definitely wasn't."

He pulled her mouth up to his sealing his words.

**-as**

I apologize for the horrible ending. I couldn't find a way to finish it saying all the things I wanted with a half decent ending. However, this is the last instalment of this story. Hope you enjoyed it, regardless of the OOC-ness through most of it!

**_Another quick thing: thanks you to everyone that reviewed. It means a lot to know that you like what I'm doing. _**

**_The story about the family… I'm hoping to write it again this summer when I have time to plan it out, like another story I have in the works. Hope you'll look for it._**

**_Kavi Leighanna_**


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